


way down we go

by ponfarr



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Billy is still a fucked up person, Blood, Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Frank deserves better, Frank gets hurt a lot, Frank is sad, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, alcohol consumption, cheeky billy, lots of flirting, the word dick is repeated quite a lot, very minor background billy/dinah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponfarr/pseuds/ponfarr
Summary: Canon divergence from the time Frank and Billy meet up by the waterfront and what happens thereafter. Billy is more keen on keeping Frank around. Despite the consequences.





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally my first fanfiction work, ever. And my writing is terrible. Apologies in advance! I basically wanted porn of these two but apparently I have to write a little plot before my porn so this thing happened. I honestly don't know if I will continue with this story (there is a second chapter in the works, we’ll see if it pans out) or if I will just leave it as is. But I really wanted to contribute SOMETHING to this pairing because it's not getting enough love. /sad sigh. This is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title is from the song Way Down We Go by Kaleo.

Billy Russo is a selfish person, there’s no denying it. Growing up as an orphan left little room for selflessness. Not when it pertained to him. Why should Billy care when no one showed an ounce of understanding or wanting in his entire life? Not even his own mother or father. Definitely not his one-night stands. Billy never had any best friends. Just connections. He tried to care about people in his younger years but it would always fall through. Nothing would ever last. People used Billy and when they were done, he’d be tossed aside. So it made sense for Billy to get with the program. Do unto others and all that jazz.

Eventually, the only thing that mattered was self aggrandizement and the occasional lust fulfillment. Attachments don’t serve Billy. That’s what he tells himself on days like this. And on nights that he’s stood talking to Frank’s headstone. He knew Frank’s body wasn't there, it was just a way to pay respects. To reminisce over old times. Lost opportunities. Sometimes he actually missed Frank and found himself there.

Frank Castle, literally the only person he’d consider a friend. Frank never wanted anything from him but Billy followed him anyway. Trusted Frank’s instincts and it never let him down. It’s hard not to get close to a guy that’s been by your side during the worst and best nights of your life. At least that’s something. But because of Rawlins own selfish endeavors, Billy was forced to sever that connection. How poetic.

“Frank,” Billy’s fingers tap lightly against the table. “How come you never reached out to me?”

Frank looks sullenly at his beer. Brings it to his lips briefly before answering. He looks worse than he did during the war. But losing your whole life will do that to you. Billy’s never had anything, so he’s not exactly sure how it feels to lose something. Even with his mother, that hurt like hell but he never had her. Never knew the feeling of being cherished only to have it torn from his hands. It honestly sounds worse. Billy would rather not love at all, than to love and lose.

“It just made sense. It’s better for everyone if I keep my distance, you know?” They’re sitting across from each other near the waterfront at a small circular table. It’s cold outside. But Frank doesn't seem to mind much. He’s bundled up. The river past the ledge looks dark, inviting.

“Mm, I know I’m pretty but I haven’t turned into a damsel since we left Afghanistan.” Billy jokes. Somehow, it feels like betrayal. Stings in a way that doesn't make sense. It shouldn't hurt that Frank didn't reach out to him after he lost everything but in some annoying fucked up way, it does.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you can hold your own, princess.” Frank gives a genuine smile. His laugh is rough around the edges, just like he remembers. Billy can’t help the pull in his gut, feeling nostalgic.

“Damn straight.” Billy smiles back as he takes a drink from his own beer. Wishing it would hold off the chilly winds. The smile is already fading from Frank’s eyes. He’s seen things worse than the carnage of war. It’s written clearly on his face.

“I just, you know with everything that’s happened, I can’t lose any more, Bill.” Frank would always do this thing, looking from one thing to the other like he’s lost. It always made him want to grab his face and steady him.

Billy wants to reach out to Frank’s arm across the table. Give it a firm squeeze to let him know he’s right there with him but after so long without seeing him, he’s not sure how Frank would react to being touched. He had already pulled Frank into a hug upon seeing him. He doesn't want to risk overstepping his bounds here. It’s not like Billy got to talk to him after he lost everything. He doesn't know what state of mind he’s in. He can make some assumptions from what he’s read or heard about the punisher but just enough to be cautious.

“I’ll always be your brother. You've always been mine. Brothers - they look out for each other. We ain't at war anymore, Frank. But I still got your back. You know I’d do anything for you if you asked.” Billy hopes his face conveys what he’s trying to get across. Frank could rely on him. Could trust him. Despite all the secrets, even. He wants, no, he needs Frank to.

“Yeah… that’s why I didn't ask.” Frank looks wistful but he’s hard to read. In some ways Frank is the same but this isn't the same man with his loving wife and kids. That part of Frank is dead. Buried in that grave meant for Frank himself. Billy wants to feel something else aside from pity when he looks at him. Frank deserves better than the hand he’s been dealt. And it’s just shitty luck that’d he’d have a friend like Bill. Frank lost the only thing that mattered to him. So what does that make him now? Not someone Billy wants as an enemy. He knows that much.

“You've always been one stubborn son of a bitch, Frank.” Billy shakes his head lightly. He tries to hold back his smile but it’s hard. That is so inherently Frank. If nothing else, that’ll never change. It’s slightly endearing but mostly annoying. He just wants Frank to give in to him. But who is he kidding? Frank doesn't relent to anything that isn't his long dead wife and kids. Billy should know better than to have any sort of expectations of Frank. He’s his own man. But god, what Billy wouldn't do to have that man under his hand, doing just as he commands. If only Frank had similar interests. Things would be so much different.

Frank looks at him briefly before looking back at the river. There was a flash of something in his eyes, something emotional. Billy can see his throat working as if he’s trying to say something but finds it hard. Billy wants to pull those words from Frank, get him to say anything and everything that he’s ever thought since they both got out of that shit hole. It’s been too damn long since it’s been the two of them and not just Billy talking over an empty grave plot. Billy watches him intently but patiently waits.

“We both managed to get out, get home. I was ready to stay, Bill. Ready to give up the blood and shit for my family. My wife, you know, she was so happy. I wasn't all there but I wanted to be, needed to be for them,” Billy can tell that Frank has to force himself to be steady. He looks far away like he’s reliving past events. “I left but the war followed me home. I’m still at war. It never stopped for me. But you, you got out. I don’t want any more of my family dying for me, Bill. I know you've got my back. Hell, you took enough bullets for me back in the day. I just can’t have anyone else dying for me. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

As selfish as Billy could be, he hates to see Frank like this. Frank’s family was the only good, clean thing in his life. He never wanted this for Frank. If Billy were a better man, he’d have protected that shining innocence Frank held so dear. Would have protected it with his life if he didn't value his own interests over all others. Sure, he’s taken shots for Frank. But even that was born of selfish reasons. The selfishness of wanting to keep Frank around. Besides, you didn't go to war expecting to come away whole. He was lucky to get out when he did.

If Billy cared about anything at all, Frank would be it. But Billy has a warped sense of how he should treat the things he cares about. It’s not all pure or even paved with the best intentions. Billy knows that. Thought he could deal with it in the same way he deals with everything else in his life. His connection with Frank is not something he wants to lose. Not deep down. He is giving up something valuable if he gives up Frank. And he’s done that once already. Sat back as Rawlins took away the only thing that meant anything at all to Billy. That’s his own personal hell and he’s gotta live in it.

“Okay, I get it. You don’t want my help,” Billy lifts his forearms onto the table and leans his body towards Frank. His tone soft but determined. Searching Frank’s expression. “But can I at least see you? Sometimes?”

“What, you want to keep tabs on me now?” Frank doesn't look offended, just curious so Billy keeps on. Hopes he’s not reading too far into it.

“Of course not. But fuck, Frankie…” Billy lets his hand slide across the table, closer to Frank’s hand that’s idly messing with his beer bottle. Wanting to be close but not touching. “I thought you were dead, man. Just like you said, you can’t lose any more family. Don’t you think I feel the same way? You’re the only family I got.”

How ironic that he should speak of loss when he’s partly at fault for Frank’s. But he can’t stop himself from speaking and he can’t stop himself from thinking of Frank as family, or as close to family that Billy will ever have. They've been through the mud together and sometimes they loved it. Reveled in it. They relied on each other and they were alive despite walking through hell fire, charred but heaving. It was them against a tidal wave and he had Frank. There was nothing better, no one better. At least things were straightforward back then, uncomplicated. Just following orders. Surviving with your best guy. Even with secrecy, that came as natural to Billy as anything else.

“I guess I could do that, but you gotta bring the beer.” Frank lets out a reluctant grunt. There’s a hint of that smile again. Not as strong but still there.

“It’s a deal,” Billy flashes his winning smile. Pulling his hands back to his jacket pockets. He can see how Frank notices him pulling away. Wonders if he saw him approaching but of course he did. “Don’t go skipping out on me now.”

“I wouldn't miss a date with Billy the Beaut, think you could make me a couple sandwiches too?” That playfulness is starting to return and Billy can’t get enough of it, wants more. More of Frank and their easy banter. Reminds him of late night teasing back when their cots were only a few feet apart. Frank could kick him out of his bed back then if he was being particularly annoying. Those were the days.

“Fuck you, man.” Billy laughs and things feel like old times for a second. Frank’s smile is back with full force. It’s not the same easy smile before all the pain and loss but it’s something close. Something just as intoxicating. Maybe the pain only makes it more consuming for Billy. Frank is a black hole and Billy can’t escape the pull even if he wanted to.

 

—-

 

Billy had enough foresight to install security for all his safe houses around town. So he knew exactly when he got visitors. Welcome or unwelcome. Before Frank disappeared after their meeting by the river, Billy told him the location of one of his safe houses in case he ever needed some place to lie low or meet up. He’d keep the place stocked just in case. It’s the least he could do if Frank wouldn't accept his help. He had hoped Frank would inconvenience him, just so he could have the opportunity to see him again.

It’s past midnight when an alarm goes off on Billy’s phone alerting him of someone entering one of his safe houses. That specific safe house. It’s been nearly a month since he’s seen or heard from Frank. He’s in bed holding Dinah to his chest and he feels completely awake all of a sudden. He reaches over to the nightstand and presses something on his phone. Dinah mumbles something and touches his arm.

“I gotta go, go back to sleep.” Billy whispers against her ear before disentangling himself from her and the sheets. He can’t get up fast enough. Can’t get dressed fast enough. But he makes record time. He’s already dressed and out the door before Dinah gives him a sleepy disapproving look and a chance to question him about what’s going on.

Billy’s not sure what to expect upon arriving at the safe house but a battered Frank bleeding out at the kitchen table should have been at the top of his list of expectations. The only sound is Frank’s heavy breathing until Billy makes a sound to alert Frank of his presence.

“I know it’s been awhile but damn, Frankie. You didn't have to get stabbed in order to have an excuse to see me.” Billy’s frozen, his body taut once Frank whips his attention to him. Threatening, then slowly relaxing. His breathing halted. Frank’s got a needle and thread in his hands, attempting to sew closed a deep gash across his bicep. There’s a bottle of vodka on the table. Frank’s sitting in the chair, his legs spread wide with feet planted. Arms straining to keep his hands steady.

“Bill, I didn't mean to intrude. I didn't think you’d be here.” Frank starts, his bloody hand lowering to the table but Billy walks up to him, interrupting that train of thought.

“Shut up and let me help you with that.” Billy pulls out another chair to situate himself beside Frank. He drops himself into the chair, Billy’s long leg nudging into his thigh as Frank looks away from him. “A night of dancing, Frankie?”

“You don’t have to do that.” Frank’s voice is rough. There’s blood on his face and shirt, probably not his own. Billy reaches for the needle in Frank’s hand. His fingers brushing Frank’s lightly. His hands are slicks with his own blood. It’s Billy’s turn to halt his breathing. Frank quickly looks at his face, decides something, then hands it over.

“What happened? Someone comment on your mug?” Billy wants to lighten the mood. Frank clearly wasn't having a good night. Or maybe he was. He’s not sure with this Frank. Maybe he accomplished something he set out to do. Hunting down his prey. Whoever it was probably deserved it. Billy had no doubts about it. If Frank were to reach for Billy’s throat right now and squeeze the life out of him, he’d deserve it too. Billy has no illusions of sainthood.

Billy brings his other hand up to his bicep, his fingers pressing in firmly to steady Frank’s twitching muscles. Frank‘s bloodied hand hangs between his legs, dripping onto Billy’s tiled floors. He’s a tad shaky.

“Hey, relax buddy. I got you.” Billy brings the needle up to his wound. His hand on the bicep already smeared with blood and sweat. He squeezes gently once. That causes Frank to hiss between clenched teeth before giving Billy a glare.

“Just do it, Bill. Don’t drag it out.” Franks breathing is coming back a little heavier. The rapid rise and fall of his chest is a comforting rhythm. Something familiar. This isn't the first time Frank’s blood has been on his hands. Probably won’t be the last time either. Things have always been bloody between them. Maybe it’ll even end with one or the others blood on their hands. It’s not out of the realm of possibility.

“Alright, hold still for me.” Billy scoots his chair forward a little more. The first puncture of the needle is startling. It’s always different when someone else does it. You’re never fully prepared. Frank’s hand shoots out to grasp Billy’s thigh next to him. Billy almost stops in his tracks from the surprise of it but quickly collects himself. Frank mutters an apology.

“It’s cool, Frankie. Just remember to buy me a drink next time before you go gettin' fresh with me. I ain't that easy.” Billy laughs through the tension in the air. Frank just grunts in response, looking towards the needle going through his flesh. “Should've known a freak like you were into masochism.”

“Screw you, Russo.” Frank lets out a scoff. His head twists to the side, looking at the cabinets as Billy finishes up. Billy can’t help but be amused by the whole situation. He didn't expect his night with Dinah to turn into a night of sewing Frank back together but he’s not complaining. Frank could ruin his plans any day of the week. He honestly forgot how much he missed the guy. Never a dull moment when he was around. After a few tense minutes, Billy bites at the thread. Looking at his finished work with pride.

“Look at that. All done. Let me just wrap it up.” Billy gets up from his seat. He walks over the the kitchen sink to rinse his hands before reaching into a drawer to find the gauze he keeps on hand for situations like this. “Now, don’t go fuckin' up my handiwork. Take it easy for a few days, will you?”

Frank gives him a pointed look as he stands up to meet him halfway. Frank stills obediently as Billy tightly wraps his wound. Eyes flickering between Billy’s hands and face. He looks about ready to shove Billy off for even suggesting that he dress his wound properly. But then his expression softens.

“Thanks, Bill. I owe you one.” Frank’s voice is like boots on gravel. Billy gives a smug smile. Looking down at Frank through his nose. Billy enjoys his extra height on Frank more than he’d ever admit.

“No need, brother. You saved my ass countless times.” Billy gives him a light squeeze on his uninjured bicep.

“Just promise me you won’t go getting yourself killed out there. I can patch you up anytime, Frankie but I can’t resurrect a corpse.”

Frank looks like he’s actually considering it. Billy gives him one last squeeze before letting go to open up a cabinet full of glass cups.

“Now how about that drink, huh? I think you owe me one.” Billy grabs two.

 

—-

 

Frank stumbling into his safe house becomes not uncommon after Billy tended to him the first time. Every so often Frank will conveniently find himself a reason to get shot, stabbed or mangled. Billy’s starting to think his masochist joke was hitting the nail on the head. But he knows better. After his loss, Frank became a destructive force. Not only destroying everything in his path, but destroying himself too. The guy just won’t stay down though. He doesn't enjoy it, doesn't take pleasure in the pain but maybe he thinks he deserves it. Billy gets that.

“What’s your goal here, Frank?” Billy comes from the kitchen into the living space holding a damp rag in one hand. Frank’s hunched over with his elbows on his knees and face in his hands. Thankfully the couch is leather, otherwise he’d never get the blood out.

“This city is a cesspool.” Frank sighs and wipes his hands down his face, pulls away with smeared blood on his palms. He’s looking down at his hands. Frank’s face is beaten. He’s seen worse but it’s still not a pleasant sight. “Bill, how do people even live normal lives with all this filth around them? It’s around every god forsaken corner.”

Billy walks up to the couch, in front of Frank’s slouched form. He wants to wipe away the blood from Frank’s life but he’ll settle with his face, his hands. Billy crouches in front of him, one hand settling on the junction between Frank’s neck and shoulder. Giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“This isn't on you, brother. Hey, look at me.” Frank is staring in his general direction but his focus is completely absent until Billy takes the rag to dab at a cut on his cheek. The sting did the trick.

“You've already done enough. Let someone else clean up the mess for a while. You've been cleaning up shit since you joined the Marines. This city is already a safer place because of you, Frankie.”

“But if I don’t take them all out, no one will. Not cops, not homeland, not even fucking daredevil.” Frank looks away again. Looks around at anything that isn't Billy. “My family... I can’t stop until every last piece of shit gets what’s coming to ‘em.”

“And then what? What happens after they’re all dead? Nothing truly changes. Not for you. What does this all amount to?” Billy looks down at Frank’s hands, cut open at the knuckles from hitting something or someone repeatedly. Billy holds open his palm to wipe away the blood there. Frank’s fingers twitch under his ministrations.

“I don’t know.” At least Frank was being honest. Billy could appreciate honesty in others. Even if he wasn't so honest himself sometimes. Although he can’t help but think of one day being on the punisher’s hit list. Would Frank really stop at nothing? That’s a stupid question. Frank’s hand grabs his wrist when Billy tries to wipe the blood away from his jawline.

“That’s enough. Can I, uh, I mean do you have a shower here?” Franks moved his hand away but his grip has gone slack.

“That’s not a bad idea. You reek, pal.” Billy stands up, his wrist falling out of Frank’s grip along the way. He has the sudden urge to push Frank’s hair back so he does. If Frank decides to break his jaw for it, well he’s done worse to deserve punishment. Billy gently runs his fingers through Frank’s short fringe. Messing it up even more than it already is. Blood in his hair getting on Billy’s fingers. And god knows what else. To Billy’s surprise, Frank lets out a breath and his eyes flutter shut. It’s the most vulnerable Billy has ever seen him. Amazing.

“Maria... she, she would always come up to me while I’d be sitting on the couch, watching the game or whatever.” Frank’s eyes slowly open as Billy lets his hand fall back to his side. Watching Frank struggle to talk. Billy finds it hard to watch so he looks away. Running his clean hand back through his own hair.

“She’d do just like that and give me a kiss, you know, just happy for me to be home. Every time I close my eyes I see them, Bill. It drives me forward. I can’t stop.”

Billy’s chest tightens. He’s not sure why it bothers him so much now. When he heard news that they wanted to get rid of Frank, he refused to be a part of it. Knew that he wouldn't be able to go through with it himself. There wasn't a good enough reason to eliminate Frank. Rawlins was just butt hurt. And then there was Frank’s family. He hadn't known that Frank would survive only to lose them. That wasn't the plan. It should have only been Frank. If he could go back and change things, he would. But what’s the point of regrets? Nothing can be changed and Billy felt like shit for betraying Frank.

He tries not to feel anything. Billy absolutely hates feeling anything for anyone but himself. Those sorts of feelings and attachments to people did nothing to serve Billy. So why was he here, with Frank sitting in front of him at his safe house? A man that would gladly put a bullet between his eyes if he found out that he’s been working with Rawlins this whole time. Billy knows he’d deserve it. Deserves any punishment Frank saw fit to give him. He also knows that he’s got Frank in the perfect position. If he were to kill him right here, right now. Stop all this. He could do it. Sink his hidden blade into his throat. Put Frank out of his bloody misery or just give him to Rawlins. But something is stopping him. Something in his gut. Some selfish need to keep his bond with Frank. That last thread of something that Billy always sought but never held onto. It might be the death of him.

“I hope you’re not expecting a kiss from me, Frankie boy.” Billy smiles down at him as he swipes his thumb across Frank’s split lip before wiping it against Frank’s shirt. A flash of anger appears across Frank’s face at the pain. “My bite is definitely worse than my bark.”

Frank painfully smiles after that, a laugh slipping past. He’s shaking his head. Probably thinking that Billy is unnecessarily ridiculous. But Billy’s always been that way. Frank should know by now.

“You should get cleaned up, there’s a shower through that door.” Billy points to one of the only two doors, besides the entrance, in the entire place. “I’ll get you a pair of clothes, uh you’ll have to go commando though.”

“Really, Bill? Should've known, freak like you.” He can tell Frank is trying not to laugh anymore with his split lip but Billy is determined. That laugh ignites him in strange ways and brings back feelings he thought were long gone, dead with Frank. But he’s alive and he’s here setting fire to his insides.

“You don’t know the half of it, pal.” Billy watches him head towards the bathroom before he turns himself, smiling. Billy pulls out some clothes from a nearby dresser. He wishes he knew what he was doing with Frank. If he’s honest with himself, this is a dangerous game and he’s afraid to lose. But a part of him wants to see it through and find out where this is headed.

Billy lightly knocks on the door and Frank grunts for him to enter. The shower head is already steaming up the place when he opens the door halfway, Billy casually leans against the door frame.

“You can try these on for size. There’s towels in the cupboard. Just don’t use up all my conditioner, shit is expensive.” Billy throws the clothes against the sink and Frank rolls his eyes dramatically as he pulls his bloodied shirt off to toss to the floor. Billy has to swallow the sudden lump in his throat when he sees Frank walk up to him. His torso looks like a smooth canvas, a work in progress. Only the paintbrush is replaced by knives and bullets. Each scar tells a story. Billy is probably present in some of those stories.

“Now why am I not surprised, pretty boy? You probably put more money into your hair than your fancy suits.” Frank with that smile again. Billy looks away and bites his lip. He pushes himself back from the door, hands up in mock defense.

“I honestly don’t have any comeback for that one. You might be right.” Frank looks at him believing before slamming the door shut.

Eventually Frank steps out of the bathroom wearing a pair of Billy’s sweat pants and t-shirt. Frank takes his earlier seat and Billy comes by to press an ice cold beer against Frank’s swollen cheek. Frank feels momentary relief. Then he takes the bottle from him, thankful.

“That shirt looks a little tight on you, Frankie.” Billy drops down beside Frank on the couch, a few feet away. His feet propped up on the coffee table. Beer in his own hand.

“Yeah, keep your eyes up here, pervert.” Frank props his feet up too. Sipping from his drink. Billy just laughs and shrugs his shoulders. There’s a lot of reminiscing that night.

 

—-

 

Billy doesn't see Frank for a while after Frank leaves wearing his clothes and sporting two shiners. He doesn't give it much thought other than he must be staying out of trouble or avoiding having to get patched up by Billy. Which is pretty much the only reason Frank stops by. Billy spends most of his time working and trying to cover his tracks against Rawlins.

He sees Madani every now and then, but he’s keeping his knowledge of Frank out of the conversation. She’s naturally suspicious but Billy is a good liar. He’s not gonna let Madani use him for anything. Billy is the one that uses people. And right now, Madani is very interested in the whole Kandahar situation. It’s best Billy keep a close eye on her. Make sure she’s not catching on. That would make his situation a lot more complicated than it already is.

If he thought having Frank around was a dangerous game, lying to his superior made it a game of Russian roulette. Only Billy was up against two revolvers. What were his odds? Billy thought a lot about catching Frank off his guard and delivering him to Rawlins but honestly, Billy hates Rawlins more than he’s afraid of Frank finding out about his corrupt lifestyle. Rawlins is a little too high and mighty, even for his tastes.

Billy would honestly rather see Rawlins drop dead by his own hand but he kinda needs him. They’re interests are mutually beneficial, for now. But Frank’s death doesn't have to happen. It never had to happen. It’s only made things worse for them. Billy especially. If Rawlins would just get over himself and keep a low profile, stay off of Frank’s radar. They can avoid all this bullshit. But Rawlins is determined to get his revenge on Frank. Billy really, really doesn't want to give the prick the satisfaction. Not if he can help it.

Frank becomes a ghost again for a while and Billy is truthful when he tells Rawlins that the Punisher has disappeared. If Frank doesn't want to be found, you’re not gonna find him. Unless you know him. Then maybe you have a chance. But Billy isn't about to tell Rawlins that little fact.

 

—-

 

“I thought I might find you here.” It’s already dark outside and the graveyard is empty besides Frank and himself. The nights aren't as cold anymore but they both still have hoodies on. Frank hiding his face. He doesn't look very surprised to see him there.

“You know, stalking is against the law, Billy. You bring me flowers too? Didn't take you as the romantic type.” Frank looks tired. Like he just had the longest day of his life. Well it is the anniversary of his loss. He has every right to.

“Please, these are for Maria and the kids. Maybe I didn't come here for you, ever thought of that?” Frank gives a him an amused smirk but there’s sadness there. Deep sorrow. Billy steps towards Maria’s headstone to place the flowers on top. His fingers rest against it for a few seconds. A moment of silence.

“Thanks, that means a lot.” Frank is looking back at nothing in particular. Far away again. Billy stuffs his hands in his pants pockets and slides up beside Frank. Bumping into his shoulder lightly.

“You alright, Frankie? You know, If you wanna’ talk, I ain't got nowhere to be.” Billy turns to look at the side of Frank’s face. His expression is relatively neutral. There’s a crease between his eyebrows but that’s about it.

“Have you ever lost someone? Really lost someone?” Frank speaks but he’s still staring straight ahead. It’s really sudden and Billy wasn't expecting questions. Possibly some rhetorical emotional babble or just silence. Maybe a comment about how he can shove it.

“Never. I mean, I've never had anyone to lose. Except you, I thought I lost you for a while. But you’re still here. Maybe in some way, I kinda knew that. Felt it.” Billy may not be able to see any emotion on Frank’s face but the feeling is heavy in the air. Almost suffocating.

“Then there’s no way I can even begin to put into words how this feels, Bill. Unless you've lived it, you can never know.” Frank’s voice is thick with emotion now too. It hurts to listen. But he will. Frank deserves no less. “Sometimes it’s all I can think about and it consumes me. Sometimes I just want to put a bullet in my own head to be with them. Some days I hope to go out and finally get done in by whatever trash I’m trying to take out that day. It’d be so easy, so simple to give in. But what if... what if I don’t get to go to the same place as them? Can I repent for what I've done and be with them, is that even possible?”

“I wish I knew the answers, Frank. But I don’t. Hey, listen to me for a second.” After a beat of silence, Frank isn't moving so Billy drapes an arm across his broad shoulders, leaning into him. Frank’s eyes are glossy. He’s silently treading water.

“What would Maria say if she heard you saying all this? Huh? What would your kids think?” Billy brings his other hand up to cup the side of his neck, hoping to gain his focus but Frank’s still looking straight ahead. His breathing shallow. Frank’s own hand reaches up to grasp Billy’s wrist, a warning. Billy ignores it. He can feel Frank’s pulse beating frantically against his thumb. There’s tension now. “I think she’d slap you, that’s what I think. Chew you out. Call you a selfish dick for even suggesting something so stupid.”

“That’s just it, Bill. She’s not here to say any of that. They’re dead and I’m here.” Frank’s voice has risen now. He’s obviously getting frustrated. Billy slides Frank’s hood back so he can see his face better. His hair is longer but still maintained on the sides. Quieter now. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get through to you, Frank. Get you to realize something.” Frank’s eyes have fallen closed. Billy thinks he’s trying to hold back his emotions. Doesn't want them showing clear as day.

“Yeah, what’s that, Bill?” Frank’s voice is so low now, broken. He wouldn't be able to hear it if he weren't so close already. Billy doesn't even know what he’s doing anymore. He shouldn't even be the one trying to console Frank but he wants to help him. Needs to help. Frank’s his only friend. If he can be considered that anymore. Even if it’s not right. He doesn't care about right or wrong. Hasn't cared about that his entire life.

Billy slides his hold up to Frank’s jaw. He can feel it clench against his palm as he tilts Frank’s face towards his. He could almost swear Frank’s teeth are grinding. Billy instinctively leans in to press his lips against Frank’s. It feels like the only thing he can do to show he cares. To comfort him. But he’s shocked to find out that he actually wants to kiss Frank. God, can Billy be any more messed up? They’re standing over his wife’s grave for Christ’s sake. He can feel the death grip that Frank has on his wrist but he doesn't try to pull Billy’s hand away. He’s still got his other arm around Frank. Keeping him from moving away. Frank makes a pained noise in the back of his throat but he’s mostly unresponsive until there’s fingers around Billy’s throat, pushing him away a few inches. Billy lets go to raise his hands up in surrender. He hopes he’s not looking sheepish but he probably is. Frank looks confused but not mad.

“Uhh... am I missing something here? Madani holding out on you or something?” Franks voice is curious, a little threatening but Billy can hear there’s no malice in his tone. Frank’s grip is firm and he can’t stand still. The slight adjustments every few seconds is unnerving.

“Take it easy, brother. I was just trying to make you feel better.” Billy quickly licks his lips and rolls his eyes around, taking a moment to decide how to word this. “You looked like a kicked puppy, okay? I couldn't stand it anymore. Admittedly, I don’t have much experience at comforting people. So I just did the next best thing I could think of. Snapped you out of your funk, didn't it?”

“Since when do you go around kissing your brothers on the mouth?” Frank’s moved his hands lower to settle against his collarbone. Still holding him where he wants him but his grip is less. A smile pulls at Billy’s lips, he can’t help it. He looks down at the ground for a second. Then looks back up at Frank, shrugging his shoulders.

“I wouldn't exactly call that kissing. It takes two, Frankie.” Billy tilts his head back a bit, watching Frank. Billy finds Frank’s hand on him rather distracting and Frank looks like he doesn't appreciate Billy’s tone. Then Billy’s being shoved gently. He stumbles back a step.

“You need to work on your people skills. You know, not that I usually care but there is a time and a place for most things.” Frank is laughing at him as he walks past. His face amused again but he’s leaving. Billy lets out a heavy sigh and turns back towards Maria’s headstone. Hands shoved back into his pants pockets. He is so going to hell.

 

—-

 

It’s a few months later when Billy gets a notification that Frank’s at his safe house again. He half expected Frank to avoid him for the rest of his days after pulling a stunt like that. Apparently Frank doesn't have time to procrastinate over a stolen kiss. Frank’s sitting in that same chair like the very first time. It’s past nine o’clock. Looking like shit, as you’d expect. There’s blood on his clothes, but when is there not? There’s a few fresh cuts on his face but the most noticeable thing is how Frank’s holding his arm. Billy was out drinking with some employees when he has to bail. He’s beside Frank now. The guy looks like he just ran a marathon.

“Nice monkey suit. I hope I didn't interrupt your prom or anything.” Frank sounds decidedly cheerful for someone that’s injured.

“You shouldn't be talking about appearances, Frankie. You look like you just got out of a bar fight.” Billy’s eying him up and down. Arms crossed. Legs shoulder width apart.

“Yeah, about that... some asshole dislocated my shoulder. Would you mind giving me a hand here?” Franks making a distressed expression, like he feels bad for asking.

“What would you do without me?” Billy pops the button open on his suit jacket to takes it off and drape it across the back of a chair. He rolls up his sleeves then puts one hand high up on Frank’s bicep. The other grabs his forearm.

“Relax your muscles but keep your back straight. That’s it. Just breath easy.” Billy’s moving Frank’s arm as slow as he can back into place. Taking his time. Frank’s face is holding all his tension. He’s thinking he should have given Frank something to bite down on when Frank lets out a very loud, very pained grunt. His shoulder popping back into place. Frank clenches his hand into a fist, testing his movements. It seems okay. Frank stands up quickly, good as new. Well, almost good as new. Billy has to catch Frank around the arms as his balance is lost and he stumbles forward.

“Shit, man. Slow down. Have you actually been drinking?” There’s a strong hand at his neck and a thumb pressed into his jawline. Billy’s not sure what’s happening exactly but he’s suddenly being forcefully kissed. Billy scrambles to grab onto his shoulders. Needing something, anything to hold onto. Frank’s mouth is as relentless as the rest of him. Bearing down on him like a ton of bricks. He’s not prepared at all. Billy’s mouth parts like he’s ready to say something and then there’s Frank’s tongue. Jesus Christ. He can definitely taste alcohol. Something strong but sweet. Somehow it fits with how he’d imagine Frank would taste.

Billy’s desperately trying to keep up with Frank’s onslaught of teeth and tongue for what feels like forever, he’s starting to pant now. It’s like Frank has a goddamn mission to devour him. Frank probably hasn't even been kissing him a full minute and he’s already out of breath. Can’t keep up. Could never keep up with Frank a day in his life. Billy doesn't even remember moving but he feels the counter pressing into his lower back. The hot slide of Frank’s tongue is getting to be too much. He’s not used to being kissed like this. Usually he’s in control but Frank isn't someone he can overpower. Not easily anyway. Fuck. His dick is definitely starting to take interest in what’s going on. Billy turns his face away to catch his breath. Frank’s breathing against his ear now. It’s not helping his focus. Billy desperately wants to adjust himself in his pants.

“Wait, wait a second, Frank. I thought you weren't into this sort of consoling. You’re not smashed, are you? ‘Cause I’d rather not have my ass kicked tomorrow.” Billy can’t see Frank’s face but he can feel his hands tight on his waist. His breathing hasn't slowed and Billy is getting way too hot in his clothes. Frank makes an annoyed sound, like he’s tired of this.

“No one is consoling anyone here. I just had one glass for the pain in my shoulder. What’s the matter, Bill? Can’t finish what you started, huh?” Frank presses his body forwards, pinning Billy against the counter with his hips. Billy’s breath gets lodged in his throat at the feel of Frank’s hard dick pressing into his thigh. Well, that’s a huge development. No pun indented. This is quickly getting out of hand. Billy’s no stranger to fast nights with near strangers but those were woman and most certainly not Frank. Billy’s always had an open mind when it came down to sexuality. It’s just never taken that turn for him personally. Women were always readily available to him. He never even thought to initiate anything with another man until Frank. Now look what he’s started. Billy just had to kiss the fucking punisher. As if his life wasn't complicated enough. Billy bites his lip, attempting not to make a sound. That’d be really embarrassing. Even through two layers of fabric, Frank’s dick is burning a solid line into him.

“Fuck, Frankie... is that a gun?” Billy’s breathing heavy again as he brings he hands up to grip the edge of the counter. Not trusting himself to touch Frank. Then there’s a hand in Billy’s hair, tilting his head back so Frank can get his mouth on his throat. He’s hyper aware of Frank’s warm breath ghosting over his skin.

“Think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He’s not laughing but at least Frank sounds amused. There’s a hand tugging at Billy’s collar. A few top buttons are undone then there’s a slick glide of his tongue before Frank’s sucking a bruise into his neck. Billy’s dick is throbbing just from the feel of Frank’s mouth on him. His hips buck against Frank’s. Trying to get some sort of friction on his dick. It only serves to tease him. No satisfaction.

“Goddammit, Frank.” Billy’s eyes flutter closed at the feel of Frank’s teeth. It doesn't hurt but it’s a pleasant surprise. Too much teasing and then Frank seems to be satisfied with his mark because he’s searching out Billy’s mouth again. Frank might just be trying to kill him by lack of oxygen.

Frank readjusts his hips to settle more securely between his thighs and Billy can’t keep in a moan this time at the feel of Frank’s dick pressed directly against his own. The pressure is a small mercy. It’s too fucking hot. Frank’s tongue in his mouth is as hot as his dick. Frank is like a wild fire. Unstoppable. Burning from the inside out. Billy tries unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He needs it off. Frank gets what’s going on. He pulls away from Billy so they can both set to getting their tops off. A shiver runs down Billy’s spine at the loss of his shirt and Frank’s heat. They’re both bare chested now. Billy doesn't even want to know how flushed he looks.

Before Frank can do anything, Billy has him pushed back against the counter now with a hand at his chest. He finds it funny that Frank is just as hairless as him. When does the guy find the time? Billy lets his hand trail down Frank’s stomach. Frank gives no resistance. He’s just watchful. Billy wants to make Frank feel good. Has wanted Frank to feel anything other than misery since seeing him for the first time at the waterfront. He doesn't know why he wants it, he just knows he does. It’s the only time he can recall wanting to be selfless and not just doing it out of obligation. Billy drops down to his knees. Frank looks surprised.

“Hey, you don’t have to do that.” Frank looks away for a moment like he can’t believe this is happening. Billy can’t believe it either. A few years ago, if anyone would have said he’d be sucking Frank’s dick, he’d have probably punched them for it. Now look at him. Willingly dropping to his knees, without even an incentive. He could just as easily have given Frank a sloppy hand job but he wants to do him one even better. He’s the farthest thing from an expert but he’s a fast learner and he’s enjoyed less than stellar blow jobs before. Still beats a hand.

“Just be gentle with me, Frankie. I’m usually on the receiving end of this.” Billy brings a hand up against Frank’s straining dick through his pants, getting a feel for it. He’s not exactly familiar with anyone’s dick besides his own. He’s surprised when Frank makes a noise and grabs a handful of his hair. Not too tight but firm nonetheless. Billy might have to lecture Frank another time about messing up his hair. For now he takes the hint and undoes the button and zip. He tugs his pants and briefs down just enough for Frank’s erection to spring free. Billy’s face is suddenly very up close and personal with Frank’s dick. God, it looks as hot as it felt. The tip is an angry red. He’s almost afraid of what it’s gonna do to him. It doesn't even look like it’d fit in his mouth properly.

Billy looks up at Frank. His eyes are half lidded, breathing deep. Jaw clenched. There’s a nice flush on his cheeks. Billy lets his own eyes fall closed and his mouth fall open. Frank’s still got a guiding hand in his hair. Billy hums at the first touch of Frank’s dick on his tongue. The heat of it shouldn't be a shock but it is. It’s solid and heavy. Frank is easing in very slowly. Being considerate. Billy runs a hand up against Frank’s abdomen. Keeping himself steady. Billy presses the heel of his other hand against himself between his legs, wanting to alleviate some of the ache. Billy’s really surprised that he’s gotten harder with Frank easing into his mouth. He thought he knew all his turn ons already but apparently not. What a fucking twist.

Frank doesn't go too deep before pulling back out to slide back in. Frank is probably trying to avoid choking him. His restraint is admirable. Billy moans softly against the hot slide of it on his tongue. It’s so unfamiliar but it’s not bad. Just overwhelming. Billy is trying to breath as best as he can through his nose. God, it’s so much. Too much of everything. All he can smell, taste and feel is Frank. After Billy is mostly adjusted, Frank gradually goes a little faster, a little deeper. Billy stops touching himself to wrap his fingers around the parts of Frank that his mouth can’t reach. Billy tries to suck and move his tongue against the underside. Tries to imitate what’s been done to him before but with Frank’s dick sliding hot and wet, it’s nearly impossible to focus on anything else. He sucks when he remembers to. Frank’s grip tighten in his hair when he does. They’re both breathing like they can’t get enough air.

After a little while longer, Frank stops his movements and Billy’s eyes fly open. He moans loudly around Frank’s dick when he feels pressure between his thighs. He’s still painfully hard and Frank’s got his combat boot planted firmly against his dick. Billy’s hand squeezes without meaning to and Frank applies more pressure. Whether it’s deliberate or reactionary, Billy doesn't care. Billy really wants to focus on sucking but the ache between his thighs is calling his attention. Billy starts grinding himself up against the pressure, spreading his legs a little further. He looks up and sees Frank watching him rub off on his boot. Yeah, he looks about ready to fuck Billy into the floor.

Billy is suddenly pulled off of Frank. God, the wet sound of it goes straight to his dick. Why was that even a turn on? Billy’s lips feel swollen and his jaw feels a little stiff. He can finally breath out of his mouth. Frank lets go of his hair in favor of pushing Billy back against the floor. He grunts when his heated flesh meets the cold tile. He wants to ask what the fuck but Frank’s on top of him in an instant. There’s a forearm next to Billy’s head, supporting Frank’s weight as he uses his other hand to open up Billy’s pants. He lifts his hips to help shove his clothes down mid-thigh.

Billy’s dick bounces back against his stomach, hard and leaking. It’s not as thick and heavy as Frank’s but it’s still sizable. It’s flushed pretty and practically begging to be touched. Frank grabs his thigh instead. Canting his hips down to slide his dick alongside Billy’s. Feels it twitch against him. They both let out a surprised gasp at the feeling. Frank’s mouth finds his again and Billy’s left hand holds onto Frank’s bicep like his life depends on it. They kiss for a few second before Frank starts moving his hips. Frank is going tortuously slow. Billy groans and tilts his head back. Leaving Frank to pant with his face hidden against his neck, occasionally groaning into his skin.

Billy’s arching his back every time the pleasure gets to be too much. Frank’s dick sliding against his stomach is like a hot brand. His insides are molten. He wants to crawl out of his own skin. Every few seconds, Frank will grind up against him just right and a shock of pleasure will radiate through his core. But it’ll be gone just as quick. Only giving him a taste of release. He’s on that knifes edge. Frank’s seriously torturing him. It’s driving him insane. He just wants to finish, needs Frank to finish him. He doesn't usually have to wait this damn long to come. It’s always him setting the pace and Billy always wanted it fast and hard. He doesn't have the patience to drag it out.

“C’mon, Frankie, please.” Billy’s pressing his right hand into Frank’s lower back. He’s bucking up into Frank’s continuous grinding. The pleasure keeps mounting, driving Billy close to that edge. The friction on his dick feels fucking amazing but it’s not nearly enough. It’s slowly killing him. If Frank would only go a little faster, press a little harder. Do something. “Fucking make me cum already. I’m so close.”

Frank makes a deep guttural noise and Billy can feel him coming hot against him. The slick of it makes something pulse deep in Billy’s gut. Fuck, that’s obscene. He’s straining as he gives one last buck and his dick spasms. He’s finally coming. His breath is caught in his throat and his muscles lock up. He wouldn't be surprised if Frank has a hand shaped bruise on his bicep tomorrow. Frank’s hips are still languidly stuttering against him as he rides out his orgasm. Billy’s zoned out for a little bit. His muscles relaxing. Catching his breath. When he’s able to focus again, Frank is dead weight on top of him.

“Jesus Christ, Frankie.” Billy’s heart rate is still running a mile a minute. His hand coming up to entangle in Frank’s hair. Frank makes a little contented grunt. They stay like that for a moment. Just the sound of their breathing. Then Frank is lifting himself up onto his knees above Billy.

“Oh my god. Look at this mess. How much did you come?” Billy’s exasperated as he moves into a sitting position. Running a few fingers through the mess on his stomach. “When’s the last time you shot off, man? And I don’t mean your gun.”

There’s that hand in Billy’s hair again. Tilting his head up so Frank can bite his head off or whatever he plans to do. Frank kisses him, quick and messy. Biting his lip before pulling away.

“Do you ever stop talking?” And then he’s being shoved back. Billy catches himself on his elbows. Watching Frank get up and put himself back together. He’s standing on slightly shaky legs.

“Mm, I don’t know, Frankie. My mouth seemed pretty occupied earlier.” Billy gets up to start making himself decent too. He desperately needs a shower but he'll wait until he gets home.

Frank doesn't stay long after that and Billy doesn't go back to drinking with his coworkers. He’s tired, sated so he goes home. He passes out almost immediately.

Billy dreams of Frank killing him that night.


	2. two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, for anyone that was waiting! I wrote the first piece while I was on Christmas holiday so it’s hard for me to find the time. Anyway, I don’t know how I feel about this chapter but I’m tired of tinkering with it. Cheers!

“You let him get away?” Rawlins is sitting at his fancy desk, fingers interlocked. Staring with his one good eye. Courtesy of Frank Castle.

“I didn’t let him do anything. Frank is trained to get himself out of impossible situations. You’ve seen so yourself.” Billy is sitting back in a chair that’s almost too comfortable.

“You’re supposed to predict his moves. If anyone knows Frank, it’s you. It shouldn’t be taking this long to capture one man.” Rawlins looks bored. He always looks bored unless he’s torturing someone.

“It doesn’t matter how much I know him. My guys at Anvil don’t have the skills to take on Frank Castle. That’s way above their pay grade.” Billy gives him a hard look, his jaw clenched.

“I expected more from you, Billy. I’m not getting results. What good are you if you will not serve your purpose?” Billy stands up at that and walks over to the glass decanter sitting on a nearby table. He pours himself a drink. Billy needs alcohol in him if he’s gonna deal with this shit today.

“You know, he would have killed you that day with his bare hands. Do you think... you would have been able to stop him? Hm?” Billy makes his way to the front of Rawlins desk. Glass of whiskey in hand. He waits for a reply but it’s not forthcoming. Billy didn’t really expect an answer anyway. He just wants him to sit on that for a second.

“What’s your point?” Rawlins is watching him closely. Expression deadpan. Billy is getting really tired of seeing that face. The face of a man that demands. Billy doesn’t like ultimatums or threats. Rawlins is very generous in that regard. It’s getting pretty fucking old.

“I’m just saying,” Billy places his hand against the desk and leans down a bit. A smile playing on his lips but they both know it’s not genuine. They’re whole relationship isn’t genuine. “I was the only thing standing between you and Frank. That’s still the case, isn’t it? You shouldn’t forget that.”

“And you shouldn’t forget who you serve, Mr. Russo. Your company. Your life. It’s all a luxury I gave you. You had nothing. And I can take it all away. Just remember, Billy, you’re nothing without me.” Rawlins stood while he was talking to get in Billy’s face. His unseeing eye bore into him. It looks just as vacant as his personality. Billy leans back after a few second. He downs his whiskey in one go.

“Thanks for the drink.” There’s no appreciation in his tone. Just contempt. Billy turns and leaves without another glance at Rawlins.

—-

It’s a week later that Billy calls up Dinah for a distraction. Rawlins continues to ride his ass and he hasn’t seen Frank since he evaded capture. Granted, he wasn’t really trying to capture Frank and he made sure to cover his appearance in tactical gear. But even before that, he hadn’t seen the guy in a while. Not since that night Billy became selfless for once and Frank dismantled him like one of his guns. Frank is the type that comes and goes though. He’s hardly predictable. Even to Billy.

Right now, Billy just wants to lay off some steam. He’s irritated and wound up. He doesn’t feel like himself. It was supposed to be different. Billy should be in control of everything. It’s his life. No one gave him his life. He earned everything he has. His life was all aces until Frank came back to life. Things started changing. Everything has even greater consequence. Rawlins wants Frank dead and he’s made it very clear that he’s not against threatening Billy’s livelihood to accomplish that.

“I haven’t seen you in a while. What’s been going on with you?” Dinah, never off duty. They’re at her place. Their usual spot. Billy still doesn’t have a key. Maybe it would be useful to him. But they don’t really trust each other. So that’s not happening.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Billy touches her hair, her slender shoulders. He leans in to kiss her but she stops him with a finger to his lips.

“Are you dealing with something? Maybe I can help.” Dinah has that gentle smile on her face. Searching. She’s tough but something about her is still tender. Billy doesn’t want tender.

“You are helping me, right now.” Billy sits back on the edge of the bed. He pulls Dinah onto his lap and she smiles. Staring at him for a moment, touching his face. It looks like she’s admiring him but no, it’s analytical. She’s studying him and then something clicks.

“Is this about Frank Castle?” She’s watching him too closely. He should have expected her to circle back around to that. Work is never far from her mind and she’s hellbent on getting to Frank. He had hoped that she’d just take the hint and stop asking. He hasn’t given her anything useful. Billy catches himself slipping after a second. He looks down, clearing his throat.

“I’m getting a little jealous here, Madani. I’m right in front of you and all you can think about is my friend, Frank. Why won’t you just let it go?” Billy collects himself. Trying for teasing. His hands are gentle at her waist. Soothing. She’s so small, so fragile. Billy is almost afraid he’s gonna break her sometimes. He has to watch himself. But he doesn’t want to do that. He wants to press hard. He wants to leave an imprint. Billy wants to be set on fire again, struggling to take in air.

“Because he’s your friend and he’s been pretty damn active in this city. He’s leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake and he can’t be unaffected. Right? He needs help. I think you know that too.” Dinah wasn’t completely wrong. But she doesn’t know the full story. Doesn’t know Billy’s full story. And he’d like to keep it that way. It would be a shame to have to get rid of Dinah. Billy would rather not hurt a woman. Homeland agent or not. He doesn’t exactly like the idea but what choice would he have.

“I’ve already tried getting in contact with Frank. I got nothing. He probably doesn’t want me getting involved. I don’t know what else to tell you.” Billy sighs and leans back on his hands.

He’s already frustrated, he doesn’t need this right now. Frank is always on his mind lately. Between him thinking about how he should handle Rawlins persistent problem and remembering Frank slowly burning him alive. The feel of Frank’s hands in his hair. Frank’s body pressing him into the hard floor and his soft mouth on his skin. The mark left on Billy’s neck was a vivid reminder every time he looked at his reflection. Now it’s faded but the memory of his touch hasn’t. It’s driving him a little insane. He was hoping Dinah could get his mind on other things.

“There’s got to be a way to track him down. I don’t think he’s safe. I want to get to him before someone else does. Before it’s too late.” Dinah doesn’t know when to let things go. It probably makes for a good homeland agent but it makes an even better corpse. Billy runs a hand over his eyes tiredly.

“You know what, this was a bad idea. I didn’t come here to talk about Frank.” Billy’s waiting for her to move. He gives her a questioning look but she’s looking back at him like he’s a lost cause. Billy has seen that look on more than one occasion. They are both a means to an end. Billy is Dinah’s closest link to Frank so it would only make sense that she’d be persistent about it. Billy just wishes she’d take his word but apparently he attracts stubborn people like flies on shit.

“You don’t care, do you? You don’t care about anything. I knew you were detached but not to this extent.” Dinah is only slightly wrong this time. Billy does not care about anything. But Frank is the exception to the rule. He honestly wants her to be right. He doesn’t want to care about people. That’s the fastest way to get you dead and the easiest way to destroy everything Billy has worked so hard for.

But things have always been this way. Billy didn’t choose to be emotionally stunted. He just accepted it and moved on. He’s seen people with worse fates. Some of them meet with Curtis on the regular. Billy can’t care about how life has formed him. Made him into a conceited and deceitful person. But he didn’t expect Frank to come in and change the rules. It’s completely out of his control. It’s frustrating but there’s nothing he can do about it.

Billy grabs her waist and pushes her off to the side. She lands on the bed and Billy gets up to grab his coat. She’s watching him put it on, obviously offended that he’s avoiding her inquiries.

“You don’t know him like I do. You need to leave this alone. It’s for your own sake, trust me. Nothing good can come if you involve yourself with Frank.” Billy gives her a look, a look that says ‘drop it’. He adjusts his collar and starts heading for the door. But Dinah gets up and starts following him.

“Are you speaking from personal experience?” Her hand grabs his arm. Billy turns to look at her. She’s waiting for an answer. He decides not to answer that. Instead he pulls his arm free.

“Just stay out of trouble, Madani.” Billy leaves with that. She’s not happy with him but that’s probably for the best.

—-

Billy spends the next few weeks thinking about his predicament. He works and gets through the day. But at night all he can do is think about Frank and the shit he’s got himself into. Technically Billy has everything that he wants. He’s got his company. He’s got money and good looks to get him whatever he desires. He actually made something of his life after coming home. That’s all Billy ever wanted. Everything is damn near perfect. Except for the one problem, William Rawlins. He has leverage and that gives him power over Billy.

If Rawlins was out of the picture, that would solve his problem. It’s not like Billy really needs him around anymore. He’s already got his company. He can branch out. Do business the right way, a legal way. He doesn’t need Rawlins in order to move up in the world. Billy doesn’t need anyone. Besides, what good is all this if Billy just ends up dead or in prison? He left Afghanistan so that he wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit anymore. He wanted out. He managed to get Frank out too. But neither of them were really out. Rawlins just keeps looming over his life. Telling him to do what he wants and threatening him if he doesn’t. Billy is fed up with it. He could take it if he knew he was getting something out of it but Rawlins is only a threat now. If he doesn’t do something soon, it will have all been for nothing. Billy’s not about to let that happen.

After a lot of contemplation, Billy decides to send Frank a text message. He’s not sure if he will even see it. This is the first time he’s contacted the number. Frank had given it to him but he tries to keep his distance. Letting Frank come to him instead but he hasn’t seen him in a while and he needs to talk to him. So Billy sends him a message asking if he’ll meet him. Making sure to emphasize that it’s important.

Billy checks his phone consistently throughout the next few days but there’s no response. Somehow he feels like Frank isn’t the type to reply to messages even if he’d agree to see him. He can’t imagine Frank using modern technology that much. He probably goes through burner phones like tic tacs. Billy’s been neglecting his work a little and has a stack of papers he has to get through. He’s finding it hard to focus lately on menial tasks. He’s had to hire a lot of new employees. Do some background digging. Make sure everything is legitimate.

Frank went through a lot of his guys. He already knew it wasn’t a good idea to put them up against The Punisher. It just wasn’t a fair fight but Billy has to keep up appearances for Rawlins. What’s a few casualties here and there? So he’s got new recruits coming through the doors every week. He gives them the same speech he gives every group of people seeking a job at Anvil. He appeals to the soldier in them. They’re all desperate to serve. To mean something. And Billy is more than happy to give them something to thrive for. Something that involves their particular set of skills. He can make use of them and they can continue to service their country through Anvil. It all works out perfectly.

It’s after hours on a Thursday. Anvil is closed up for the night but Billy stays behind to finish some things up. He hasn’t been sleeping very well lately anyway. Might as well be productive. Billy’s writing something down when he hears a door open and shut. He stops and listens for a moment but nothing comes after that. Billy stands up slowly and reaches for his firearm. There’s no reason for anyone to be here at this hour. Everyone left hours ago. Billy walks over to his office door. He listens for foot steps, anything. Still nothing but someone has to be there.

Billy raises his gun as he cautiously opens the door. He takes his steps slowly. His breathing is controlled. Billy has always been light on his feet so he doesn’t make a sound. There’s a light shining from a lamp in his office but it’s barely illuminating the stairwell. He starts making his descent down the steps until he reaches the corner. It’s too quiet. He takes a peak around the corner but there’s no one in sight.

He walks out into the long corridor lined with doors to other office spaces. Most of the lights are off so it’s dimly lit. He’s scanning the rooms through the windows, gun raised at the ready. He’s moving cautiously. The only sound is his gun cocking into place. Billy finally reaches the end of the hall way but he hears a noise coming from one of the offices. Billy spins around but after a second he realizes it’s just a fax machine going off.

There’s the faintest air movement. Billy wants to react but he isn’t quick enough. It’s barely even noticeable. There’s a strong arm around his neck before he can do anything. Then there’s a hand at his wrist, keeping Billy from aiming the gun where he wants it. Billy’s first instinct is to slam his head back into the offenders face. The person lets go and they stumble back with a breath of surprise. Billy quickly turns around to aim his gun at them.

“Easy, Bill, take it easy! It’s me, you asshole.” Billy can recognize that voice anywhere. No mistake, it’s Frank. It’s not really a surprise that Frank would find him here. His company isn’t exactly private. It doesn’t have high security either. Billy doesn’t think anyone is stupid enough to break into a company filled with trained killers. Any idiot can google this address though. He just didn’t expect Frank to actually show up here.

“Fuck, man. I thought you were a trespasser or something.” Billy quickly lowers his gun and puts it back in its holster. Honestly he thought Rawlins might have sent someone to kill him. He wouldn’t put it past the guy. Maybe Billy is starting to outlive his usefulness. It’s definitely been on his mind.

“Yeah, I had to make sure you weren’t gonna point that thing at me.” Frank lifts a hand to his nose. He’s wiping away the fresh blood there. Billy got him pretty good right on the bridge.

“Damn. You’re bleeding.” Billy moves forward to get a closer look at him. He looks okay, besides the bloody nose. No obvious injuries that he can see. He’s still whole and functional. But who knows what’s under his layers of clothes. He could have five new stab wounds for all Billy knew. Frank hasn’t been sitting on the sidelines this whole time. He saw Frank wipe out his men with his own eyes.

“I’ll take a broken nose over a bullet wound any day.” Billy smiles at that. He’s relieved to see that Frank is okay.

Billy thinks he missed his voice too. For him, It’s a strange concept to miss a person. He’s missed things, sure. He’s missed hot showers after a long night of crawling in the mud. But a person, no. Their laugh, their smile. Never. It’s different with Frank. He’s never really gotten used to it. It’s an inconvenience more than anything. He should be thinking about more important things like running his company or staying on his toes around his enemies. Instead his brain thinks it’s a good idea to think about Frank’s hips against him, his tongue pushing past Billy’s lips. His heat on Billy’s tongue and under his hands. It’s stuff like that that’s given him hard ons when his mind wanders during boring company meetings. Billy doesn’t care much for what others think of him but damn if that isn’t annoying. He could do without.

“Let me take a look at it.” Billy takes the square fold out of his breast pocket. He hesitantly reaches for Frank’s face. Gauging his reaction. He looks slightly annoyed but he’s not backing away so Billy gently wipes away the blood. Then he inspects his nose to make sure he didn’t actually break it. Billy wants to believe that he’s being apologetic and courteous but he gets a sort of satisfaction from tending to Frank. Clearing away the blood and patching up his wounds. It’s almost... therapeutic.

“Is your breathing restricted at all?” There’s no outward deformities. None more than usual. Billy doesn’t think he actually hit Frank hard enough to break his nose.

“What are you, my mom? I can breath fine.” Frank’s protesting but he’s not pushing Billy away so he counts that as a win. Frank’s just watching him like he usually does. He looks curious all the time. Like he doesn’t understand Billy at all. Maybe he doesn’t. Billy doesn’t even know himself these days.

“Well your nose wasn’t much to look at to begin with. Actually, it might be an improvement.” Billy pats the side of his cheek gently before he backs off. Frank scoffs at that.

“Yeah, keep talking, pretty boy. You won’t have those good looks forever.” Frank teases and Billy’s mind keeps wandering back to that night. Frank is so close now and it’s distracting. It’s been too long since then. Too long since he’s seen Frank. Billy hasn’t even slept with anyone since. He tried with Madani but that wasn’t even worth the effort. He’s been going about his days being sexually frustrated along with everything else.

He spent a lot of time reliving that moment over and over again in his head. There were nights when he couldn’t sleep. He would stay up and drive himself crazy. Some nights he had to touch himself. He couldn’t take it anymore. Billy would remember being on his knees in front of Frank and he’d ache for it. He’d remember the way Frank took what he wanted and Billy let him. Let Frank touch him and break him down. Reveal parts of Billy he didn’t even know was there. How is he supposed to look at Frank the same way? He knows what Frank’s tastes like, knows how he feels when he’s desperate against him. He remembers the sounds Frank made when Billy touched him just right.

Billy clears his throat and runs a hand down his beard. He’s suddenly aware that he’s been staring for too long. Billy forces himself to back away further.

“We should go into my office so we can talk.” Billy starts heading back in the direction he came from and Frank follows silently. They make it up the stairs without a word. Billy’s too busy thinking about what he should say. He wasn’t fully prepared for this. He holds the door open for Frank. He’s wearing regular civilian clothes. Dark and inconspicuous.

“Huh... pretty impressive setup you got going on here. Got your own fancy office and everything. Man, you weren’t kidding.” Frank’s inspecting the place, hands in his jacket pockets.

“You know, you can always come work for me, Frankie. Who knows, maybe we can even be partners one day. I bet you look good in a suit.” Billy sits back against the front of his desk, hands gripping the edge.

“Yeah, hah, I don’t think so. Business is not really my area of expertise.” Frank stops by the low leather couch in the middle of his office. Billy crosses his arms and silently prepares himself. He didn’t really think this through but he’s good on his feet. Billy knows what he wants.

“So about that thing I wanted to talk to you about. It’s some heavy shit, man. But it concerns you.” Billy makes sure to look him in the eye and Frank’s looking back, interested. 

“Okay, I’m listening.” Frank’s focus is completely on him now. All seriousness.

“Just promise to hear me out all the way. Keep in mind that I only want to help you out here.” Billy watches as Frank closes the distance between them. He’s a few feet away when he stops. Billy can tell Frank just wants him to spit it out already.

“I know you just want to help. Say what you gotta say. I’ll listen.” Frank’s tone is gentle but insistent. Billy sighs and looks down at his hands. Here goes everything.

“I recently got intel that Rawlins was the one that put a hit out on you and your family.” Billy looks back up at Frank. The mood has changed. It’s that all too familiar tension. Frank is silent for a minute. It becomes too long. Billy waits for it to sink in or for Frank to explode.

“How do you know that?” Frank’s tone is not soft anymore. His voice is stern, expression hard. He’s closed that little bit of distance left between them. Billy has to crane his neck to look up to him now.

“I have a reliable source. After we left Afghanistan, got away from all that. I kept tabs on Rawlins, just in case. You can’t be too careful with a guy like him, you know? I didn’t trust him.” Billy has to do this carefully. Get Frank to trust him. Believe him. It shouldn’t be too hard since Frank has no reason to doubt him thus far but Frank is not stupid. He’s far from stupid. One mistake can ruin everything here.

“That asshole, he... he killed my wife and kids? Because what, because I popped him once? What kind of man does some shit like that, Bill? You, ah hell, you should have let him kill him that day. God, Bill. I can’t believe this shit. Seriously? It was him?” Frank is fuming and rightly so. His hands are in tight fists like he wants to punch something. Billy wouldn’t want to be that something. He’s got that look in his eyes. That tunnel vision. Frank wants blood. Rawlins blood.

“I know, Frank. Trust me, I know. I should have let you kill him that day. I’m gonna live the rest of my life feeling like shit because I stopped you.” Billy stands up so he’s level with him. Frank looks like he’s deciding whether or not he should bolt out of here and track down Rawlins. So Billy continues before he gets any ideas.

“But listen, I’m not finished. What if I were able to help you locate Rawlins? I can have my guys track his movements, give you the perfect opportunity to put a bullet in his head. We can end him, Frank. Quick and easy.” Billy watches as Frank starts pacing the office area. He looks like a million things are running through his mind at once.

If they do this right, everything can be settled. Billy can go back to doing what he wants without Rawlins holding threats over his head. Frank gets what he wants too, he gets to punish the man that took away his family. Billy would be lying if he said he didn’t like the idea of Frank taking Rawlins’ life. It’s almost intoxicating to know that he’s the one that’s letting Frank at him. But he can’t think like that right now. Things aren’t there just yet.

“Yeah, yeah okay. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. As long as he’s dead. Not behind bars. I want to put him in the ground myself. It’s the only way.” Frank stops then. He looks like he’s imagining all the ways he can kill a man. Billy hates to have to give him bad news but this has to be done. Rawlins needs to be eliminated and Frank has to do it. Maybe Frank can even get some closure. A small piece of mind.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want him dead just as much as you do. The world can do without one less scumbag.” Billy watches Frank for a moment. He’s unreadable again. Still tense in the shoulders. Billy looks behind himself at all the stuff on his desk. It’s a mess. But he spots what he’s looking for. There’s a bottle of alcohol sitting on some papers.

“Hey, you want a drink? You should calm your nerves, Frank. You’re not killing Rawlins tonight.” Billy’s got a bottle of scotch raised as he looks at Frank expectantly. Frank makes a low defeated sound after a moment.

“Yeah, sure. I could use one.” Frank sits down in the chair situated in front of Billy’s desk. He’s not exactly relaxed but at least he’s not in fight or flight mode anymore. There’s not much either of them can do just yet. Billy takes a quick swig straight from the bottle before he hands it out to Frank.

“I’m starting to think you might be an alcoholic.” Frank leans forward to grab the bottle. Frank’s fingers touch his in the process. He’s way too aware of Frank’s touches, it’s ridiculous.

“Mm, you got your vices. I got mine.” Billy licks the taste of scotch from his lips and smiles. Frank laughs once, it’s barely there. Then Billy’s watching his throat work as he takes a drink himself.

“What’s my vice, Bill?” Frank looks confused and a tiny bit cocky. Frank’s lips are wet now and Billy can’t stop noticing all these tiny insignificant details. He forces himself to look up at Frank’s eyes.

“I don’t know... vengeance, maybe?” Billy hopes that doesn’t piss him off but he doesn’t seem affected. Frank just looks away, thinking for a second.

“I guess Vanity would be one of yours then, huh?” Frank’s taking another sip from the bottle. He seems more relaxed now. Billy just shrugs at that.

“You know me pretty well. I’ll give you that.” Billy’s always enjoyed nice things, tailored clothes and luxury cars. Being in a position of power is great too. Those are things he strives for. But Billy never asked for strange men to come up to him, call him pretty and make advances. Those were unwanted. Then and now. His looks haven’t always been an advantage. Frank doesn’t know that though. In the end, it really doesn’t matter.

“You all right?” Frank’s voice snaps him out of his thinking. He was quiet for too long. Lost in thought.

“Yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking.” Billy sighs and rubs a hand across his mouth. He sees Frank get up and set the bottle beside Billy on the desk. Frank’s heat is radiating off of him like a furnace. He wants to lean into it. Leech some of that warmth for himself.

“Thanks for the drink and... everything else. I should probably head out.” Frank starts to step away and Billy stands up to follow close behind.

“I’ll message you when I get something concrete. So keep an eye out for me and uh, maybe message me back this time? I almost shot you today.” They’re both at the office door now. Frank turns around to face him. He looks like he wants to say something along the lines of ‘as if’. Billy knows he isn’t up to Frank’s level but he can definitely give him a run for his money. He’s spent enough years with Frank to know how he fights.

“Okay, I will. Scouts honor.” Frank’s hand is on the door handle and Billy has his own hands in his pant pockets. He’s itching to reach out and touch Frank. He doesn’t know when he’ll see him again. It could be weeks and he hasn’t seen him for nearly long enough. Frank opens the door to leave and Billy reaches for his forearm. 

“Wait, Frank.” Frank stops and looks back at him. His lips part to speak but he doesn’t say anything. Fuck it. He can’t take it anymore. He’s been thinking about this for weeks on end. He’s not gonna pass up this chance.

Billy rushes forward to kiss Frank. Billy’s not sure if Frank expected it but as soon as Billy’s mouth is on his, Frank lets him in easily. He’s pliant. Submissive. He’s actually letting Billy dominate the kiss this time. No resistance. Just soft yielding lips. It makes him want to tear Frank down. Strip him bare.

Billy brings both hands up to Frank’s neck and then he’s pushing, backing him up against the door. It slams shut from the impact. A shiver runs down his spine at the feel of Frank’s heat against him again. His mouth is searing. Branding him all over again. Billy wants to be able to remember the press of his lips for days. So he kisses Frank with a little too much teeth. Wanting to leave his own mark on Frank. Billy is distantly aware of Frank’s hands on his back, grasping at the fabric. Billy’s breathing hard when they finally pull apart. Frank isn’t unaffected either.

“What was that for?” Frank speaks but it’s barely above a whisper. He’s all out of breath.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I just had to. It was killing me, man.” Billy sighs and he leans his forehead against Frank’s. He needs to calm his heart rate. He got a little too worked up there.

“You don’t need to apologize to me.” Frank’s voice is soft and his eyes are downcast. He lips look extremely flush and kissable. Billy did that. He’s not sure how he ever resisted before. Maybe going after a family man was a low blow, even for Billy. His priorities are definitely messed up.

“Well it is partly your fault. You’re half to blame for this situation.” Billy starts to laugh but he cuts himself short with a low surprised moan. Frank’s hand is cupping Billy’s dick through his pants. His hand is practically big enough to encase his entire length in heat. It’s really abrupt and he wasn’t ready. Honestly he just wanted a kiss. Well he wanted more than that but Billy only expected a kiss.

“Frank...” Billy hates himself for sounding like he needs something from him. He lets his forehead drop to Frank’s shoulder. He’s resisting the urge to rub himself against his hand. A hand leaves Frank’s neck in favor of fisting his jacket sleeve. If his jacket wasn’t wrinkled before, it will be after Billy lets go.

“Shh, it’s okay. Just relax, Bill.” Frank has his other hand pressing into the small of his back. Billy complies with the pressure and leans forward against Frank’s hand between them. It’s warm but it’s not really soft. It’s nothing like Madani’s hand, or any woman he’s slept with for that matter. Billy doesn’t want soft right now anyway. He wants Frank, all hard muscle and firm grip. That’s what he needs.

“How am I supposed to relax with you touching me?” Billy is more than half hard already. He’s more worried that if he relaxes, his legs won’t support him. Frank doesn’t seem to want to answer that. Instead he gives Billy a firm squeeze, testing him. Billy chokes back a groan but his hips thrust forward anyway. Seeking more of that feeling. Frank’s hand is trapped between their bodies now. Billy is pressed as close as he can be. Frank’s hand continues to loosen and apply pressure at random. It’s making Billy lose his mind.

Billy turns and buries his face into Frank’s neck so he can taste him there. He licks a wet strip up to his jawline. It’s almost too animalistic for what Billy generally goes for in bed but Frank is bringing out all sorts of new stuff in Billy. It’s just different than what he’s used to. So much different. He’s a different person with Frank in general. He’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing but Billy doesn’t care.

He’s almost heaving, his lungs filling with nothing but Frank. He smells like outdoors and gun fire. Billy bites down on his throat and Frank retaliates by pressing the heel of his hand against the head of Billy’s dick. A wave of pleasure pulses through him. There’s a loud needy sound and Billy’s sure it was him but he’s too out of focus to care. Lost in Frank.

Then the hand that was at Billy’s back is sliding to the front. Frank is nudging his hips back so he can get to Billy’s belt buckle. Billy looks down between their bodies as Frank opens his pants. Frank reaches in to pull out his dick and Billy has to bite into his lip. Just the visual of Frank’s hand on him is almost enough to make him cum. Shit, he hasn’t been touched by someone in what feels like forever. This is Frank’s fault.

Billy’s dick is fully hard now. It’s already leaking from Frank mercilessly teasing him. He can’t take much more of it. Frank’s running his fingers along the shaft before he wraps his hand around it. Then he presses his thumb against the head to rub at the wetness collected there. Billy curses and twists his fingers into Frank’s jacket. Frank uses it to slick the way for his hand. Billy is not going to last long at this rate. Billy shuffled his feet, trying to get his balance right.

Billy tears his eyes away for a split second and he notices that Frank is hard himself. The outline of his dick is pretty hard to miss. Billy thinks about dropping to his knees again and a wave of arousal slam through him. His attention is pulled away as Frank squeezes him tight. His hand is hot on Billy’s already over heated dick. Billy’s eyes flutter shut and his mouth goes slack as Frank starts stroking.

Frank’s movements are erratic but it works. It’s not sweet or tender. It’s hard, fast and dirty. It’s more than he could have hoped for from Frank. Billy’s heart rate is steadily climbing. He has to lean against Frank heavily for fear of his legs collapsing under his weight. Frank’s breathing is labored even though Billy isn’t even touching him.

Billy brings his thigh forward to press between Frank’s legs so he can add pressure to his straining erection. Frank grunts and he presses his face into the side of Billy’s. His stroking stopped momentarily to collect himself but then he’s back at it. Billy doesn’t know how much more he can take. He’s barely holding on with Frank pulling tight and twisting at just the right angle. Billy’s orgasm is cresting. Billy’s hips give a weak attempt at meeting Frank’s strokes but Frank has a tight grip at his hip.

Billy drags his head up to finally look at Frank. He’s got the prettiest pink flush on his face. Like Billy was touching him and not the other way around. Billy leans in so his lips are an inch from Frank’s. They share breath for a moment. Billy closes his eyes and just feels. The wet sound of Frank’s hand is so loud to his ears. Billy groans aloud. He feels a build up of pleasure and he finally lets himself tip over. Billy presses forward hard as he moans into Frank’s mouth. Frank kisses back deeply. The wet slide of his tongue is maddening. Billy rides out his orgasm as Franks hand slows down.

After they pull away, Billy looks down again. He came against Frank’s hand and against his black clothes. Well that isn’t obvious at all. Even Billy’s clothes were affected. He’s not even angry. He’d ruin anything to get Frank’s hands on him. Billy is sweaty and panting. He desperately wants to get out of these clothes.

Then he notices that Frank is still incredibly hard. Billy runs his fingers against the outline but Frank stops him with a hand at his wrist. Billy looks up at him, confused.

“Another time. I just wanted to take care of you.” Frank lifts Billy’s hand to his mouth and Frank does something really surprising then. Frank presses a kiss to his open palm. Billy is frozen for a moment. Then he grabs his face and Frank leans into the touch. It’s all extremely intimate. It doesn’t seem right but Billy can’t help the urge to kiss Frank again. He manages to hold back nonetheless.

“Frank, I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I should have... made better choices. Maybe things would be different.” Billy watches Frank’s expression carefully. Frank may not know what he’s talking about but at least he can apologize. Even if it’s indirect. Billy still means it.

“It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is what comes next.” Frank slowly lets go and Billy starts to dress himself properly. He almost wants to change up the plan and kill Rawlins himself but Frank wouldn’t go for that.

“Yeah, just don’t do anything stupid until then.” Billy can only hope that Frank is patient enough for that. He’ll have to think of something fast.

“No guarantees.” Frank’s hand it at the handle again. He’s ready to leave and Billy only managed to rile him up and give him a hard on. He wonders what Frank’s going to do when he gets out of here.

“You’re something else, Frank.” Billy has his hands at his hips and he sighs once Frank goes down the stairs. He spins around to grab the bottle of scotch at his desk. After he takes a drink, he looks at his watch. Billy decides to call it a night. He’s not getting any paperwork done after that. He has more pressing matters on his mind anyway. Like how they’re going to deal with Rawlins.

Billy takes a long scalding shower when he gets home. It’s no where near how Frank makes him feel.


End file.
